Pound of Flesh
by elilover2
Summary: Creative title, especially since it is the name of the song this is wrapped around. "It wasn't his fault, really." Zig falls into a pit of despair follwing Cam's untimely demise. Mentions of cutting and, you know, despair.


**A/N:**

***Ahem* **

**This is for 2spiffy because she apparently likes this 'pairing'.**

**This is going to be angsty, and sad, and everything you don't want it to be shoved together in one place **

**(including maybe, sorta, a tiny bit OOC)**

**I don't own Pound of Flesh (Regina Spektor)**

**I don't own Degrassi because, frankly, they would probably ALL be gay if I did.**

**Take a moment to imagine that.**

**Anyway, enjoy.**

Zig's POV (Obviously)

_If you're never sorry, then you can't be forgiven_

_If you're not forgiven, then you can't be forgotten_

_If you're not forgotten, then you can live forever_

Zig Novak was prone to talking about nothing now, things that didn't make sense and things that should make sense but no one else seemed to get. Most of these things centered around Cam and how sorry he was but also how sorry he wasn't because, really, it wasn't his fault. He hadn't told Cam to do it, he hadn't wanted this, and therefore he shouldn't have to apologize.

He still did, of course, lots of times when he felt the weight of it all on his shoulders and he couldn't breathe and something had to be done. Those times had him on his knees, like he was confessing a sin in front of God himself, begging for some kind of salvation. Cam, naturally, never answered and Zig was never forgiven but he got up anyway because there was nothing else to do.

He couldn't help that he was still alive and Cam wasn't, and he said that sometimes even when he was desperately crying for forgiveness, because really it wasn't his fault.

And, maybe Cam wasn't dead, since Zig couldn't seem to let him go. Everyone else was moving on but Zig was still stuck and he apologized to Cam for that as well, the fact that he was stuck listening to the boy who'd caused it all.

But, it wasn't his fault. Not really.

_If you live forever, then you'll begin to dream_

_Of death_

It wasn't his fault that he was still alive, counting down the days, an eternity for each.

It wasn't his fault, really.

Still, he missed Cam, and he wondered where Cam was. On days when Cam forgot to visit, or didn't take the time to listen to his apologies, he considered finding Cam himself. Cam had found his new home easily, would it not be just as easy for Zig himself?

_Ezra Pound sat upon my bed_

_Asked which books as of late I've read_

_Asked me if I'd read his own_

_And whether I could spare a pound_

_Of flesh to cover his bare bones_

No, it wouldn't be easy, it never was.

He couldn't go to find Cam so he tried to distract himself with things he normally didn't like. He wasn't skateboarding anymore because he was scared of falling, though he'd never really been scared before. Instead he liked to read and think about something besides Cam, which wasn't his fault, but still hurt.

He read a lot, late at night when his vision blurred, and it made his dreams strange.

He gave a lot of himself away in those dreams, like he gave a lot of himself away to Cam when he apologized.

It wasn't like it was his fault, he just needed to do something.

_I says, man, take a pound, take two_

_What's a pound of flesh among_

_Friends like me and you_

_What's a pound of flesh among friends?_

He gave a lot of himself away to Cam and didn't think anything of it because, why should he? He was trying to be nice, trying to come to terms with himself and with Cam, and when he apologized Cam liked to take other things as well.

He liked to take bits of blood with him, soft lines on Zig's wrist that pooled on the carpet if he cut too deep.

And it wasn't a problem, and it wasn't his fault, but he did it anyway.

It was the least he could do, Cam just looked so sad sometimes.

_If you live forever, then you can't be reborn_

_If you're not reborn, then you can't be a baby_

_If you're not a baby, you can't learn how to crawl_

He got caught once, by his mother, and she told him he needed to move on.

It wasn't easy though, moving on, and he lied to her to make her believe it was but it wasn't.

It wasn't easy to remember and it wasn't easy to let go but he managed one and not the other.

If he didn't move on, they liked to tell him, he couldn't survive. They liked to tell him that it wasn't giving up but, rather, living with what happened and making Cam proud.

They liked to tell him it wasn't his fault, which he knew already, really.

_If you cannot crawl away, then you must stay in bed all day_

_If you stay in bed all day, you're sure to have some visitors_

Cam came to visit a lot and his carpet was beginning to stain and his wrists were growing croweded and the books weren't very distracting, but he didn't think much of it. He didn't think much of anything, but he didn't think much of that either.

He stayed inside more often and tried not to let anyone in and tried not to let anyone out. His dreams were getting stranger now and the people liked to stay long after, watching him and listening to him apologize and taking lines of blood with them if they felt like it.

Cam visited as well but he was always with other people, people he knew he should recognize but he kept forgetting.

_Ezra Pound will sit upon your bed_

_Ask which books as of late you've read_

_Ask you if you've read his own_

_And whether you could spare a pound_

He could spare some blood, one little cut more didn't matter, even if one stretched on till morning.

He could spare some time to apologize, even if he should be in school.

He could spare some sleep to remember, even if he couldn't breathe properly or recall properly anymore.

He could spare it, he could spare it, he could spare it.

Because, it wasn't his fault, but it felt good to try.

_Of flesh to cover his bare bones_

_You'll say, man, take a pound, take two_

_What's a pound of flesh between_

_Friends like me and you?_

He could do anything because, really, he hadn't done anything wrong.

It wasn't his fault.

It wasn't his-

He could spare-

Really.


End file.
